


A Kiss Before Battle

by reversatility



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Emison - Freeform, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2172948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversatility/pseuds/reversatility
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Emily wants now is Alison.  (Canon-compliant till 5.11 and is based on a line of dialogue from the 5.12 preview, but will probably be AU after that episode airs.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kiss Before Battle

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something quick and dirty to help me process the last couple of Emison-downer episodes and deal with my suspicion that things will not end well for Emison in the 5A finale either. 
> 
> Sorry it’s so short, but well, it’s basically just one kiss (yes, I will make sure they kiss, damn it!), so …

“I don’t want things to be like this.”

It’s not quite an apology but it’s not an accusation either. You are so weary of fighting with Ali, and it feels strange that since Alison came back, you’ve been the one who has drawn the most blood with words, left the most wounds. You don’t enjoy hurting people, least of all her.

Alison stops her march to the door, and when she turns around, her mouth is hard, chin tilted up, but something in her eyes doesn’t match the stoniness elsewhere on her face.

“You told me you were done with me.”

This is it. The moment of reckoning, when you could say something safe like “I know, but now we have to deal with the police again” or “Yeah, but I still care about what happens to you.” Or “This has nothing to do with that.” Except that it does. 

“I’m- I’m not.” Those are the words that come out and they’re not false, but they don’t tell the truth of your heart, which pounds over and over, _I don’t know if I could ever be done with you_. Because this is Alison DiLaurentis, who you gave the innocence of your soul to a lifetime ago; Alison, whose ephemeral appearances for two years vaulted you from hope to despair and back again so many times; Alison, who has never been evacuated from your heart, by anyone. 

Ali looks at you then, really looks at you, blue eyes narrowing slightly as she searches your face. You’re so used to Alison sizing up people and situations before proceeding according to her assessments; but this time, you don’t want to wait for Ali to decide on the course of action. 

And this time, you don’t want to think about strategy Spencer-style, don’t want to contemplate Hanna’s disappointment if she knew, or face Aria’s ongoing anxieties about New York. 

There are no rewards for the virtuous, not in Rosewood. You have been good for so long, and _this_ is what you’re done with. Done with taking everyone and everything into consideration, always so careful with each heart entrusted to you. Done with choices that tear you up inside, because life and death in this town have already rent you asunder more than once with cruel disregard for you doing the right thing.

What you want now is Alison. What you want is for Ali to want you back with the same take-no-prisoners ferocity, flooded with the same yearning to consume and be consumed. 

So you cover the ground to Alison in three quick strides and grab her by the shoulders, briefly registering her surprise before your mouths collide. 

You kiss her as if the world were ending, because maybe it is. Your hands are full with Alison’s hair, and Ali has pulled you closer by the back of your neck, fingers pressed hard into your flesh. Your tongues tangle, now roughly, now more sweetly, again and again, and it is still not enough. You can hear both of you panting as if you are coupling like wild animals on the forest ground, and you haven’t even really touched each other. For many glorious moments, all there is is wanting and passion, contact and connection, and you _know_ that Ali feels it too.

And then one of your phones buzzes, an alien tone from a universe away until Alison extricates herself from you and glances over at her bag. When her eyes meet yours again, they’re no longer as hazy with desire, although her face is still flushed and her lips swollen.

“Nothing’s changed,” she says as if to remind herself as much as you.

“What?”

“I’m not changing my plans. And I know you’re all still going to do whatever you’re doing.”

You open your mouth to make an argument, but can’t find one.

Alison’s eyes are bright and her voice soft as she brings one hand up to your cheek. 

“Goodbye, Em.”

And before you have time to wonder what kind of farewell this is, Ali is gone and you’re alone in a room that feels immediately empty. Alison has always been the sun, a blaze leaving heat and ashes; no wonder you feel both energized and seared. 

Alison’s wrong though, you think to yourself, your mind never clearer even as your body is still pulsing. Everything’s changed. 

You aren’t plotting to go down with a sinking ship, but you _will_ figure something out, with or without help from Spencer and the others. You won’t, you _can’t_ just let Ali plummet into the abyss, even if she’s firing cannons to keep you all away. 

Because this is Alison DiLaurentis, who took your heart a lifetime ago, and you think – just maybe – you took hers as well.


End file.
